


Wrong Number

by TheAsexualScorpio



Series: ASoIaF ficlets [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Misunderstandings, Sansa is scarred, bathtub selfies, but not by the selfie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-06 00:20:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6729508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAsexualScorpio/pseuds/TheAsexualScorpio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa receives a text message with something...unexpected attached. How does she respond to a bathtub selfie from a strange (but really hot) guy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrong Number

Sansa Stark was studying with her friends when her cellphone buzzed. When she picked it up, she was surprised to see a text from a number she didn't recognize. There was a picture attached to it. For a moment, she wasn't sure what to do. Should she delete the message? Whoever sent it probably meant it for someone else. She was curious though. And what if it _was_ for her? A fearful part of her wondered if it was from Harry, or worse, Joffrey. She definitely didn't want to see anything from either of them. She hadn't heard from either man since she'd gotten her new phone, and she'd prefer to keep it that way. After another moment of deliberation, she opened the message and stopped breathing.

It wasn't from Harry or Joffrey.

She didn't know the guy in the picture, but she could see that he was young, about her age or a little older, and he was attractive. Very attractive. Very attractive and naked. He was sitting in a bathtub with a wry smile on his face, and his picture was captioned, “there, happy?”

For a long moment, Sansa simply stared. Some faraway part of her screamed that she was violating this poor guy's privacy, but she couldn't bring herself to move her thumb and delete the picture. It was just...really hot. She couldn't see much—everything below the waist was hidden by his bathwater—but she definitely liked what she could see. He was lean but strong, with well-defined shoulders and arms and a toned chest and stomach. His pale skin looked clear and soft. He also had soft-looking dark hair that curled loosely around his face, and his nearly black eyes were warm. He also looked just a bit exasperated to Sansa, as though the person he'd meant to send this to had been asking for a long time, and he'd _finally_ agreed to give in.

 _That's_ what snapped Sansa out of her daze. This man, this really freaking gorgeous man with the best abs she'd seen since—Sansa quickly stopped that train of thought. She started again. This man had clearly meant for someone else to see this picture. She shouldn't be looking. She was going to delete it.

“What are you looking at, Sansa?” Margaery asked.

Just like that, Sansa felt her face turn red, and she locked her phone and put it face down on the floor. “Nothing!”

One look at Margaery's sly smile told Sansa that she was not getting out of this so easily.

“Nothing?” Randa repeated, and Sansa's heart sank. She definitely wasn't getting out of this now that both Margaery _and_ Randa were giving her matching cat-like grins. Behind them, Mya and Brienne had looked up from their homework and were watching curiously.

“Seriously, it's nothing,” Sansa insisted. She moved to slide her phone underneath her leg, hoping that they were too busy watching her red face to notice. “Wrong number.”

“Oh. Alright,” Margaery said, far too innocently, and Sansa's guard went up. She stared hard at her friend, trying to figure out what she was going to do.

She was looking in the wrong direction.

Suddenly, Sansa was flat on her back with Randa's body pinning her to the ground and Margaery trying to pry her phone out from under her leg.

“No!” she yelled, though it came out rather muffled since she'd shouted into Myranda's chest. She kicked and flailed, but Randa wouldn't budge, and Margaery kept coming back even though Sansa was certain she'd landed at least a couple of good kicks. Margaery's delighted squeal told Sansa that Margaery had gotten her phone _and_ seen what was on it. Despair made Sansa go limp. “You guys are the worst friends ever,” she grumbled into Randa's breasts.

Randa pushed herself off her. “What was that?”

Unwilling to talk anymore, Sansa simply raised her middle finger.

“Ah. Understood.” Randa turned toward Margaery. “What was Sansa looking at, Marg? Let me see.”

“'fraid I can't.” Margaery jerked the phone away from Randa's grasping hands.

“What?!” Randa pouted. “Why not?”

“Because it's private.”

“And yet _you_ looked at it,” Randa scoffed.

“But I shouldn't have. Sorry, Sansa.” She appeared sincere, but Sansa was still annoyed with her for stealing her phone and for _still not giving it back_. She huffed in reply and sat up, holding her hand out for the phone.

“Just a minute,” Margaery all but sang. “We wouldn't have taken the phone if you'd just told us what you were looking at.” Then, her sly smile returned. “Now, keeping that lesson in mind, who is this pretty boy sending you naked pictures?”

Randa squealed in delight, and behind her, Mya's mouth dropped open. She looked half-scandalized, half-impressed. Brienne just turned red, and Sansa felt herself do the same.

“You're keeping a boyfriend from us, and _we're_ the worst friends ever?” Randa demanded, but she didn't sound angry.

“He's not my boyfriend!” Sansa retorted.

Margaery gaped, and Myranda looked even more excited than before.

“So, you're saying he's a hookup?” Randa asked. “Sweet Sansa Stark has learned the wonders of the booty call?”

“He's not a 'booty call!'” Sansa spat the last two words like they offended her.

Now her friends looked confused.

“So...who is he?” Mya asked after a moment.

“I told you. Wrong number. I have no idea who the guy is, and he clearly sent this to me by mistake.”

Sansa's friends were silent for a moment, and then Myranda broke the silence with a groan.

“That was anticlimactic,” Margaery pouted, and the other girls agreed. Margaery handed the phone back to Sansa, who quickly slid it into her pocket.

“So, was it a good picture?” asked Mya, “What did the guy look like?”

“Like a prettier version of Sansa's dad,” Margaery replied immediately.

Sansa made a disgusted face. “He did not!”

“He did!” Margaery insisted, and the other girls made considering noises.

“Sansa's dad is kind of hot,” Randa said thoughtfully. “He gives off that 'lord in the streets, wildling in the sheets' vibe.”

“Like he could eat you out like a fucking champ,” Mya added.

“Ew!” Sansa shrieked.

“I also get that vibe from your dad,” Brienne admitted, and Sansa actually gagged.

“Guys! Please never say stuff like that about my dad again!”

Her friends looked at each other and shrugged.

“Alright. We'll never talk about your hot dad in front of you,” Margaery teased.

“Once again, worst friends ever,” Sansa said, though there was no real bite to the words. She felt better now that she had her phone back.

Slowly, the group calmed and went back to studying. Sansa was almost immersed in her reading about Baelor the Blessed when her phone buzzed again.

She froze.

The others looked up when the phone buzzed again. Randa looked like Christmas had come early. Margaery and Mya were smirking, though Mya was at least trying to hide hers. Brienne was starting to turn pink, and Sansa felt like she was starting to blush too. Slowly, she slid her hand into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out her phone. She sighed in relief.

“It's just Arya, you guys.”

Mya swore. Randa and Margaery both let out disappointed groans before Margaery got a look on her face that Sansa rarely liked. It meant she had an idea.

“You should text him back, Sansa.”

Sansa felt her blush return. “I should _not_.” What would she even say to him?

“You totally should.”

“But I won't. I'll just delete the picture and pretend this never happened.”

“And what if he keeps sending pics like that, because he thinks his girlfriend isn't getting them or something?” Margaery pointed out.

“That's...actually a good point,” Sansa admitted. “Okay. I'll just text back 'wrong number.'”

“You should send him a selfie!” Randa exclaimed.

“No!” The word was almost a squeal.

“It's not like you have to send nudes, San,” said Mya. “Just pick a nice one from your pictures, so he believes you when he says it's the wrong number. Otherwise, he might think his girl's trying to play a game or something, and he'll send more pics.”

For a second, Sansa wondered if that would be a bad thing, but she quickly banished that thought. It _would_ be a bad thing. Even if the guy _was_ really hot and _did not_ look anything like her father.

“Okay. I'll send a selfie.”

~O~

Jon Snow had been sitting in his bathtub for nearly ten minutes when his phone finally buzzed. He grinned. Normally, it didn't take this long for Sam to text back an “I told you so,” but maybe his picture had really flustered his friend. He hoped that was the case.

Ever since he saw the dry and cracking patches of skin on Jon's elbows and knees, Sam had been bothering him for weeks to try this “exfoliator” stuff that Gilly used in the bath. To Jon, the stuff looked like sand mixed with jelly, and he had no idea how it could possibly help with his elbows. However, after having his elbows crack and bleed  _four_ times in one day, Jon finally broke down and bought a (ridiculously expensive!) jar. He added it to the bath, got in, and then took a pic of himself with the jar to send to Sam. He'd captioned it “there, happy?”

He didn't care much about sending this kind of picture to his friend. Their time together in the Watch had pretty much destroyed _his_ modesty around Sam. Sam though still got flustered when he saw nudity that wasn't for medical purposes. Jon hoped this picture flustered Sam enough to make him stop nagging for a while. It might have been a little mean, but Jon thought it was harmless. Jon unlocked his phone and saw that Sam had sent him a picture message. Thinking it was a meme or some other reaction to his nakedness, Jon grinned and opened it.

He choked.

This was not from Sam.

The girl in the picture was easily one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen. She had bright red hair (gods help him) pulled back into a somewhat messy ponytail and bright blue eyes that shone mischievously. She was pale with high cheekbones, and she also had a slightly crooked smile.

The picture was captioned, “Very. But you have the wrong number.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Annnd then they figured out that Jon meant that for his maester/doctor friend, they met up, and then Jon turned out to be a lord in the sheets, wildling in the sheets. The end.


End file.
